What Hurts
by oneforfall
Summary: 'If there are 60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes in an hour, and 24 hours in a day, then how many moments do I spend cherishing you' In the greater scheme of things, I shouldn't even begin to measure that. Especially when every moment of it causes me hurt.


_Warnings: Rape, OOC, AU_

_Disclaimer: The characters in this story are owned by Yana Toboso, creator of Kuroshitsuji. I've got absolutely no right over these poor creatures._

_AN: Thank the heavens I'm still able to write for another year! Forgive me if the details are sketchy. I tried to draw a clear picture for you. I tried. I've not written Kuro material for almost a year!_

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**What Hurts  
**by: oneforfall

'_Question no. 1: If there are 60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes in an hour, and 24 hours in a day, then how many moments do I spend cherishing you?_'

I stared at the paper then I stare at him. "Are you serious? **This** is a math tutorial question?"

He shrugs. "It's on the paper I gave you and I'm your math tutor, so that makes it a math tutorial question." He pulls off a smug smile. I swear. I want to punch him. And it's not just for smiling.

"Stupid." I skid the paper back to him. "Simply stupid." I cross my arms. "I'm not going to answer **that**. You're just playing around with me."

He slides the paper back to me. "No. I'm not. This is your math tutorial question and I'm your math tutor again." He slides the paper back to me. "So, you either answer my questions OR you fail in your math subject."

Oh. Now, he's the one high and mighty with that lean-back and smug-smile combo?

"Excuse me, Mr Math Teacher. Just because you're my math teacher doesn't give you the right to threaten me with failing my subject, especially when you're the one who's tutoring me."

I snatch the paper from across the table. "And this? This isn't even within the lesson you just thought us." A slam to the teacher's table adds more injury to the paper.

"You taught us polynomial functions, not the time." I slide the paper back to him.

wHe takes the paper and flicks it back to its straightened form. He takes a moment to look at the paper with a frown then takes another moment to look at me with a smile on his face.

"So, you _have_ been listening to me during class." The edges of the paper dance between his finger tips and his lips. "And here I thought you'd be childish enough to block me out whenever you hear me."

"We may have just broken up but that doesn't mean I'll do something as stupid as block you out while you're teaching. I still have to pass your class."

"Ah, yes. You ARE planning to take up Architecture. A bad grade would cut your chances in getting in to the Advance Class."

'_Hmph. As if he could forget. He was the one who suggested I aim for that class if I want to pursue Architecture, in the first place. _'

I shoot a glare. I've got to show him who's the one he's dealing with. "Yes. So, stop fooling around with me and let's get back to your lesson material already." My glare practically strains my eyes so I let them roll on and close for a peep.

Suddenly, an eerie feeling crawls down my spine. I only passed him a glance but my intuition told me there's something wrong.

I take another moment to look at him.

I don't like it when my bad theories are proven right.

His eyes are glazed.

Almost a month's passed since we broke off. I know it's not healthy to speculate a lot of things against a person even though he's done you one great wrong, but something tells me that the man across the table is planning something along the lines of rape or murder.

I've lost all ability to tell his thoughts just through his eyes. (It's probably because I've been too busy crying out mine.)

This leaves me…

Doomed.

He lets out chuckle. My instincts tell me that the readings went from bad to worse. "W-what are you laughing on about?"

"The look in your eyes," he lets out a few chuckles, "Your eyes look like those in soap operas." He clears his throat just to stop his giggles. A chill runs down my spine when he looks at me through the corner of his eyes.

"Your eyes are telling me to confess to a murder."

Damn. His eyes can read me but I can't read his?! Just hung up am I over him?

He laces his fingers and rests his head on top of them. "Relax, Ciel. I didn't murder anybody." His eyes disappear every time he smiles. The eerie feeling around my body doesn't stop. It's growing stronger.

He then looks at me, his pupils looming through the shadow around his eyes. "Unless you want me to," he says then breaks off into an eye-disappearing smile.

It's interesting how people have different smiles for different situations. They can mean one thing. They can stand for another. They can cover for another. But the way he's smiling now, it's nothing I've ever seen before.

He's not covering up for something.

He's not even trying.

He's serious about it.

Serious.

I don't take a second thought to stand up and get out of the room. There's no time for such things.

"Mr Michaelis, if you have the time of day to make dark humoured jokes such as these, I'm sure you have the time of day to prepare for something worth our tutorial time."

I hold my breath when I walk parallel to where he sits. The only obstacle between me and the escape route is him.

But something cold grabs onto my wrist.

I snap back and find my hand clasped by him by the wrist.

When has his hands turned this cold?

"Go back to your seat, Ciel."

He doesn't even take a moment to look at me.

"Mr Michaelis, let me go." My hand feels cold but my wrist feels like it wants to get away from the burning touch of his hold.

"Ciel, didn't I tell you to **sit down**?"

I don't want to turn and look at him. I don't think I can fathom the image that will appear before me. "Sebastian. Please." My vision's starting to swirl. "Let go."

Then everything went black in a blink of an eye. A chair clatters. I'm pinned to the board. My wrist isn't the only thing he's got hold of. His hand found a way to my neck and his grip tells me he doesn't want to let go.

"Mis-t-ter Michae-Ah! Ah!" The hand around my neck sears in to my throat. His grip begins to carve marks on my throat.

"Don't call me by that name!"

His body trembles just by touching my own. My lips quiver. My body quivers. Not out of the same feeling he's feeling, but out of the feeling that he'll do me and never leave me alone once more.

The weight of his head rests on my shoulders. "Call me by my name." His breathe washes over my ears. The fear in my gut grows. "Say my name just like you used to."

'_I couldn't even speak! And he expects me to call him like I used to?_'

The hand around my throat tightens the longer my silence grows. I can feel my head get lighter.

I've got to struggle.

"S-se-Sebas-Ack!-Nn!" He bites on my neck then crushes me against the board.

He lets go of my wrist but it only lasts long enough for him to tie that hand onto his own.

"Call out to me once more." Another bite on my neck distracts me from what he wants me to do. The hand we're bound together with moves to clasp on to my member. I couldn't feel my hand. The tie around our hand cuts deep in to my skin.

His fingers lead my own and we end up pleasuring me together.

I feel my head lighten at the different sensations. His fingers gripping my neck, his hand leading me to pleasure with my own, his bites stinging my neck, his breath ghosting over the place I release my breath.

I couldn't feel the pleasure he wants to force my body in to. His grip on my neck and his fingers desperately trying to touch my cock are rough, unfamiliar.

How did he his hands turn cold?

"Se-sebas-Ha! P-plea-se…" My light-headedness puts me to tears "S-Stop."

He rubs himself against me. His slacks feel rough against my skin.

"Sixty seconds," he whispers against the bite marks. He rubs my body against the board. "Sixty minutes," he says as he laps my tears. "And twenty-four hours." He presses his nose against my cheek. A quick deep breath and then he breathes out on to the bites on my neck.

He kisses my ear, and then chuckles in to my ear.

Warm tears from his eyes mix on to my own and they stream down my neck.

"I can't stop treasuring you."

He presses a kiss on to my lips then proceeds to claim my lips.

The hand on my neck lets go of its hold of me. But, along with the hand he bound to me, it binds me to his chest, in the arms of a warm embrace, where my arms cannot do anything to hold him or detach from him.

I don't hold back on my wanton cries. My body can't take it. It wants to collapse and tremble on the floor. The mix of the familiar and the unfamiliar terrified me to another level of intensity. And my mind couldn't begin to fathom what he's done to me.

"Ciel," he whispers on to my hair.

"Ciel." He nuzzles against the side of my neck the bites reside.

"Couldn't you forgive me?" He holds me tight.

"Don't you believe me when I told you that I love you too?" He presses a kiss on the part between my neck and my shoulder.

"I didn't mean to do it with her…

I didn't mean to do it with the rest of them as well."

He binds me closer to him.

I've already lost my breath. The tears in my eyes stopped along with the cries from my mouth. The amount of tears my body suppressed. His hold only made the asphyxiation worse.

"I want only you. I love only you. Just you. No one else but you," he whispers in a kiss to my cheek. "365, 7 times a week, and 24 hours of each." His cheek sears his warmth against the coldness of my skin.

"So please…Don't let me go."

I can hear him let out some soft sobs.

"Or else…"

Our bound hands ghost over my bruised neck.

He didn't need to say more.

He continues to cry on to me more.

The tears I kept inside suddenly die. They hardened. They burdened. They sink in to the bottom of my belly. Their attachment to my body weighs down my heart.

He cheated on me. I was loyal to him. He's to take responsibility over a woman. I didn't want to be a married man's lover. I wanted to be his number one, not his number two. Breaking up was the only option.

But to think that I was **so** determined to forget him, to let him go for the sake of saving ourselves from the hurt that'll come from his appending marriage, all turned into a broken promise to myself...

Because he didn't want to make his marriage vows to her,

Because he claims he'll never fall for her,

Because he claims to have fallen for me,

Because he cannot claim he's turned obsessed with me,

It makes me want to die somewhere far from his arms just to scar us both, this monster and I.

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_AN: I honestly hate rape. I hate it, but I wanted to take on a darker and psychological feel in my writing. _


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